Don't Put Me On a Pedestal
by Overdressedtokill
Summary: Originally posted on my tumblr. Tim Drake seeks solace, but not answers.


It's not so much that Tim enjoys these visits, yet often he feels like he has to. Like he'd be betraying Jason if he forgot to go see him. Well, his hologram. There is no actual Jason, so to speak. And that's what makes Tim feel like such a total basket case.

"Hey, Jason," he says, and he's sheepish and he feels kind of nervous, but he always feels that way down here. Jason stares back at him and for a split second Tim looks away-because if he stares at Jason long enough, it feels like he's being glared at. As if Jason is telling him somehow that he doesn't deserve to wear that uniform-like he's too young and inexperienced and he's going to end up on a pedestal, too, if he's not careful. It's probably why Tim doesn't wear his uniform down in the shrine anymore-it's literally like wearing red to a funeral. Civvies make it more casual, somehow, like Tim really is going to see a friend and not visit the grave of some kid he never actually knew. Tim Drake in civvies is just Tim Drake, and in the costume, he's Robin. There's no getting around it, and for a moment he wonders if it's fair to preserve Jason in costume like this, so that people will only know the costume and not the boy in it-and then Tim realizes that he doesn't actually know the boy either, unless reading report after report from the Batcave's private files counts as "knowing" someone, and Tim doesn't really think so.

"We fought Poison Ivy a couple days ago-it's why I haven't been down here in a while. Y'know, spores and stuff. In the bloodstream. Not fun." Tim doesn't actually think Jason's noticed. "I mean,I know you know I read that report-she got you pretty bad, I think. I mean, I'm sure you were fine eventually, too." He practically tastes the faux-pas of his own statement, but then again there's no use being embarrassed in front of Jason, it's not like he's going to be able to respond.

There's a certain distance Tim keeps between himself and the pedestal, like Jason's toxic if he gets too close. Or maybe Tim's the toxic one, and he's not worthy of being in Jason's presence. The entire Batfamily's this way, too; Dick is always keeping him at arm's length, and Bruce, well, Tim's never even seen him smile. He thinks about what Bart said earlier, about mentors, and Tim knows that he's technically right; he's got Nightwing and Batman to back him up. Bart couldn't possibly know how alone Tim actually feels, how he knows they look at him and they see Jason, they see their failure. Nobody really understands what it's like to carry a dead boy on your back all the time. And really, Jason is the only one Tim really feels close to at the end of the day-it's his modified uniform that Tim is wearing, it's his place that Tim took.

Okay yes, Jason can't talk back, but it's better than Bruce's steely silence or Dick trying to make smalltalk. And Tim knows he's not being entirely fair to Dick, that it's not really his fault that he's become so much like his father; but he knows Dick was kind once, that he used to smile. And maybe one dead sidekick was enough to teach him that emotions only get in the way, or maybe it's that he's too hurt to try and reach out again-but Tim is here, and he needs a mentor. A real one. One who he can't reach his hand through.

"They miss you too, y'know. Probably more than I do, because, they actually knew you." Dick probably comes more than Tim realizes, Bruce too, but he knows that they don't talk to him like Tim does, because they knew the boy. They got to talk to the boy. Why would anyone bother talking to a shadow if they had the real thing? Tim isn't so lucky. "I mean, I feel like I know you, but-nobody ever talks about you." He gives Jason a sort of wistful glance, as if Jason's going to jump in and talk for once. As if he could. "Listen, I um-if you can hear me, I know you probably think I'm a crazy person or something. But, if you're out there, thanks." Tim breaches the personal space boundary for a fleeting instant, just long enough that he can touch the hologram's foot. It goes through instantly, his hand touching the sleek stone of the pedestal itself. When he's this close to the hologram, he has to look directly up, and it's kind of awkward in every way, but it's the first time in what seems like forever that Tim has actually felt close to someone. "Thanks for looking out for me." He wants to say that he hopes to make Jason proud, but that seems too sappy. Like Jason is his older brother, or something. Which he isn't. Jason is his predecessor. His teammate. And, in some twisted way, Tim thinks Jason, in all of his dead, unspeaking glory, might actually be his friend.


End file.
